


Trust

by soldatssassenach



Category: Creed 2, Rocky Series (Movies), florian munteanu, viktor drago - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Some angst, Viktor Drago fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 10:13:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17057873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soldatssassenach/pseuds/soldatssassenach
Summary: You & Viktor share a special moment in your apartment.





	Trust

In a rare act of compassion, Ivan had dismissed Viktor from his nightly training session. And in doing so, Viktor was instantly motivated to his next destination. As to what his father would be up to, it was no longer his concern. Running to the little apartment you had, his own second home away from…home, was now his prerogative. 

A swift rap at the door and the door opened. The small stoic abashed grin on his face faltered when the other person on the other side wasn’t the warm smile you normally greeted him with. Noting the subtle features he’d seen in your eyes, the ones he gazed into with such adoration, he stepped through the door and noticed the reason for your stoicism. The frost in the air coming out from his breath answered his unspoken question. 

“Hi,” you muttered through chattered teeth. “The heater broke,” you explained, almost painfully. You never could get used to the unforgiving frigidity of Viktor’s home country.

Viktor set a pace of frantic footsteps down the hallway of your apartment when he heard your voice call out for him. He felt the soft gripping of your delicate touch on his arms and the passion he held for you engulfed him once more, calling for rationale to step in, making him stop. He could never resist you. He’d lay the world down at your feet if you asked him to. 

“What are you looking for?” You asked, your body tiny in comparison to his as his massive form towered over you in the midst of an embrace. 

“Your heater… I can fix,” he explained. Perhaps this wasn’t the world. But this, this he could do. For you. 

“It’s fine,” you said, your smile softening, your icy hand cupping his cheek. Your thumb brushed against the beginning of a soft stubble when he leaned into your touch. 

“No,” he grinned. “It isn’t. You will freeze. I can help. So I will.” 

Despite your non-convincing protests, Viktor draped as many blankets as he could over you. A deep throaty chuckle escaped his lips when he noticed the appearance of once of the blankets draped over your head. 

“What?” 

“Nothing… babushka,” he teased. He laughed at the scowl upon your face, before placing a hearty kiss on your lips. 

Setting off to work, even in the cold you watched Viktor as he worked up a sweat until he was down to his muscle shirt. Even in silence, you’d never felt more at peace with anyone the way you did with Viktor. Every now and then he’d glance on over in your direction with an affectionate gleam in his eyes before resetting his focus to your heater. It was these moments he cherished most with you. Feeling a little better, you got up and set off for your kitchen. The old battleax of your stove fought with you, it always did. But once a steady flame got going, you placed the kettle. As you prepared the rest of the tea, Viktor’s strong arms snaked around your waist from behind. 

“It will take a while but your heater is fixed,” he purred, his lips warm and teasing along the nape of your neck. 

“My hero,” you murmured, rocking your hips back to rest his pelvis, your hands cradling his arms. 

At this, Viktor’s embrace tightened around you before he spun you around to face him. His hands cradled the sides of your face as you reached up onto your toes to meet his lips. After the loss, after the fight, he certainly felt like no one’s hero. Treated as such. Sure, things between he and his father improved…somewhat. But much too much had also stayed the same. People came, people gone. All the fairweathered natured of their former ‘friends’ and patrons… all of them, made his blood boil as his stomach turned as heavy as lead. All, except you, he thought as his focus had been brought back to you, your hips swaying back and forth in his arms in a soft dancing motion. 

“You know I can’t dance,” he whispered, his hand rubbing your back while he held your other hand against his chest, your other hand resting on the small of his back. 

“If you can box, you can dance. The two aren’t so different.” 

Viktor snorted. “This again?” 

“It’s all about timing,” you offered, looking up at him from your head’s rest on his sinewy chest. “In boxing, the timing is all about trust in yourself. Knowing when to strike your opponent. In dancing, the timing is all about trust in your partner. Knowing when to lead them. Trusting your partner trusts you.”

“And you trust me?” Viktor asked, a sudden impulse as soft as the ring of a bell awoke in his head. Leading you away from his embrace for a small spin, only to spin you back into his arms. The effortless ease to which you moved, never letting go of his hand while following his lead had answered his question. But still…

“Yes,” you murmured, the confident cadence in your tone relaxing his tensed muscles once more. 

The flicker in Viktor’s eyes changed. What was now a warmth turned into a blaze, lust consuming his gaze at you. His hands traveled to the sides of your neck, your own hands finding a resting place on his hips as he pinned you back against the kitchen counter. Lips met in a frenzy, you yelped into Viktor’s passioned kiss when he lifted you off the floor and perched you right onto the counter. You wrapped your legs around his waist, his hand wandering beneath your shirt to rest at your breast. Just when you felt his fingers trail along the delicate fabric of your bra, desperate for the soft flesh beneath, you arched your back to lean into his touch when the beginnings of a harsh whistling from the tea kettle pierced the air. Biting your lip, you rested forehead against Viktor’s and you moaned with approval when you saw his hand reaching for the dial on the stove. 

Tea could wait. You could not. Besides, you had a feeling, and you suspected Viktor did too, that he could warm the both of you a lot better than tea.

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on my old Tumblr before I switched to here. And like a dumbass, I forgot what works I saved and what works I didn't. So some summaries may be different than how they were on Tumblr.


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